Do I Hear a Waltz?
by turnitintolove
Summary: AU: Dani's pretty sure the woman who's responsible for knocking her umbrella out of her hand is an angel.


A/N: Hey friends, it's been a while. I wrote this forever ago. I don't know if there will be more, but I feel like it stands pretty well on it's own. There may be more should I be inspired.

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><p><em>Have you ever seen someone and known that you have to know them? It feels like a light has been turned on and you didn't even know you were in the dark. That was how I felt the first time I saw her.<em>

It was turning out to be a rough day; hit the snooze button one too many times, forgot to buy coffee and getting splashed by a bus as soon as I walked out the door. Any hopes of getting to work on time had been squashed. My ride on the subway was made even better by some creeper with wandering hands and an even creepier smile. I had never been so grateful to get out of a station and onto the rainy street. At least my office was heated and not too far from the station.

I was in my own little world while trying to get my umbrella open; I didn't see her coming towards me as it finally popped open. I ran into her hard enough to drop my umbrella and watch the wind carry it up and away before I could grab it. I wanted to scream at the universe for making my day so difficult before nine o'clock and I was ready to throttle whoever caused me to lose my fourth umbrella of the month. I was ready to do as much until I saw her.

I stuttered and apologized even though it was her fault; she told me as much later, she had been looking down at a text message from her mom. She looked so startled and stumbled back with her hands up in a silent apology before turning and walking against the wind until she turned the corner. I was frozen and suddenly so sad that I would never see her again.

When I finally made it into the office I was drenched, everyone stared as I made my way to my shared office. Elliot looked up from his side of the room and stared with a worried wrinkle between his eyes as I peeled my coat off and sat behind my desk.

"You okay there?"

"Huh?" I hadn't even realized that I was in the office. My walk from the street after seeing her was missing from my memory.

"I asked if you were alright. Jesus, you're drenched. You should change." He stood up and walked to the small closet we kept stocked with spare outfits.

"I think I saw an angel."

"What?" He had stopped looking for a pair of pants when he heard me sigh. (Later he'll tell me it sounded like I was already in love, I've never told him he was a little bit right.)

"She was so beautiful."

"Oookay. So we have an assignment, we're going to this community center that helps a bunch of kids but some guy is trying to buy the place and build a hipster something or other."

"Huh?"

"Oh lord. Get dressed, grab your stuff, we have a community center to report about and save. Hurry up."

"Okay. Give me five minutes."

Ten minutes later we were walking out the front doors with everything we needed. Elliot had his notebook and I had my camera equipment that I keep at work. We make our way down to the subway and luckily the rain has let up to a light drizzle as we share Elliot's oversized umbrella.

When we get to the center I can see that it's well loved and taken care of. But _center_ seems like the wrong word. _Home_ fits much more. The brick of the converted brownstone is covered with murals and the doors are a bright red. Music and laughter seep from the closed windows and warmth spreads out from the bricks. This place is worth saving.

When we get inside a young receptionist is sitting filing her nails and singing along to whatever tune is wafting down the stairs. It only takes us a few seconds to register that the woman who is singing is so off key it almost hurts. Luckily she stops as soon as she sees us.

"You must be the reporters! I'm Sugar, I own the place."

"No she doesn't." A man's voice shouts from the adjoining room. "You don't. I'm Sam Evans, the manager. And she doesn't own this place." He steps out from behind her desk in skinny jeans and a loose hoody to shake our hands while waving Sugar off. "You can meet the owner later. We thought a tour of the place would be a good start."

Sam leads us through the first floor where the walls have been knocked out to make a large dance studio and a performance space. Although at the moment kids are sorting through boxes of clothes and accessories. "They're putting on a scene competition and need costumes." I see Elliot nod and write a few notes as he takes everything in. There's a small kitchen in the corner where a few older kids are making what look like cupcakes. "Whenever there's a birthday, the kids make cupcakes." Sam explains as we follow him up to the second floor.

"How many floors?" Elliot asks as we both take in the photographs that line the stairwell.

"Four. The first one is the dance studio and Sugar. There's also a locker room behind where she sits. The second is the art room and library slash computer lab. Third is music and the fourth is just offices. Each floor has a small kitchen that's fully stocked. The kids are responsible for making sure the kitchens are stocked, they make lists and organize it, they also do most of the cooking."

The second floor is quiet as a few kids draw on the drafting tables against the windows while a few type at the fancy iMacs. The room is clean but well loved, I can see that kids love to sit on the sofas and read whatever books they can find. The only smell that comes from this kitchen is coffee.

Sam shows us up to the third floor where a group of kids are singing in front of a woman who is smiling so big I wonder if the kids can count her teeth. She looks away from the kids for a moment to smile at us before turning her attention back to the performance.

'That's Rachel, she's our singing and acting teacher. She's getting her MFA from NYU, but she loves teaching."

"Does everybody here volunteer?" Elliot asks as we walk up the stairs to the fourth floor.

"Yes, but we get paid. We'd all do it for free, even Sugar; don't let the designer labels throw you. But the boss insists on paying us."

The offices are really one office in the corner and a few desks with computers spread throughout the room. Sofas line the walls and what look like trunks full of blankets and pillows. There's a large television set on wheels in the corner.

"Sometimes kids end up staying here. All of the sofas are sofabeds and we keep extra blankets and stuff up here. It doesn't happen often, but it happens enough. The boss always stays with them. Let me see if she's ready for you guys."

Sam leaves us and heads into the office on the other side of the room. On closer inspection I can see that one of the cabinets in the room is full of toiletries and another is full of clean and folded pajamas. A few minutes later Sam motions for us to join him in the office. The first thing I notice is how dark the walls are compared to every other room, but the second thing is that my angel is sitting behind the desk with a surprised expression. I feel heat rushing to my face and I miss Sam introduce us.

I'm vaguely aware of Sam moving his hands and speaking but I ignore him as I smile, "I'm sorry about running into you today. I'm Dani."

She smiles a little timidly and motions to Sam.

"Dani, this is Santana Lopez. She owns and runs this place." It's then that I register that he isn't just an animated talker, he's signing. She's deaf. The angel who ran into me on the street and gives kids a place to go is deaf. She can't hear them laughing while they put together costumes or type on the fancy computers or even the singing from the floor below. Everything in my world seems so loud now.

xxx

It takes me a few seconds (that feel like hours) to snap back into the conversation that's happening in front of me. I'm aware of Sam explaining a few things and Elliot writing his notes, but what I'm most aware of is the sad expression on Santana's face. Maybe not her face, she actually looks pleased that someone is writing about this safe haven she's created. But something in her eyes looks so deep and sad. I smile at her again and start paying attention to what Sam is saying.

" – can start by sitting in some of the classes and talking to the kids. They know you're going to be here. Some of them are a little shy, but some of the boys will try to flirt with you, but they're pretty harmless." Santana chuckles and says something to Sam that makes him laugh. "I did not teach them how to pick up girls, stop blaming me." He says it out loud as he signs, I figure it's a habit of his to do that. Thinking back, he's been signing almost everything he's told us on the tour.

Santana hands us each a packet as Sam starts to explain, "This is what we give the kids who come here."

We both flip through the packets and see a list of rules, emergency numbers, protocol for everything that happens in the building. What catches my eye is the last page that has Santana's signature on the bottom. It's a promise to all the kids that if they don't feel safe at home or are thinking of hurting themselves that they have a place to go and someone to call. No one will be turned away and the staff will help him or her in any way they can. It makes me wish I had a place like this when I was a teenager.

I see Elliot nodding as he reads the same letter, "This is great, all of it. When can we start?"

Sam watches Santana and starts translating almost immediately, "As soon as possible if that's alright with you. The sooner word gets out, the more likely it is we can save this place."

Elliot nods, "Are there usually this many kids here this early on a weekday?"

"None of them have early classes. All of them are juniors or seniors. They'll all head out in about twenty minutes."

"Is that the usual age range?" Elliot is already writing his notes while my hands itch to get around my camera.

"No, our youngest is eight." Santana signs something and Sam laughs, "But she'll tell you she's ten. How about we head back down and you can meet some of the kids."

Sam turns and Elliot starts asking more questions as they head back towards the stairs. Santana gives me a small smile and gestures to the door as we both follow. I still want to apologize for this morning and tell her that I think she's created an amazing space, but I don't know how. Even if she could hear me, I don't think I could form a coherent sentence. I smile in return and start for the stairs.

As soon as we're all down on the first floor Sam calls out to the kids still sorting through the boxes. They stop what they're doing and gather around him, "Remember when we said some reporters were going to come in? This is Elliot and Dani. You'll see them around for the next few days." All of them nod and a few of them smile at us. "They're here to help, so you know, be helpful. As you were."

Instead of going back to the boxes they all walk to the kitchen and pick up plates of cupcakes and carry them to the receptionist at the front. I hear the beginnings of _Happy Birthday_ and smile even wider at how enthusiastic they sound. I grab my camera and start taking photos as the teenagers surround her.

Each shot is a different emotion; Sugar's surprise as everyone comes around her, the kids happiness at making someone else happy, Sugar's gratefulness, Santana's love and respect as she places a cupcake with a candle in front of her. Sugar closing her eyes to make a wish and blow the candle out and her smile after. Santana signing something to Sugar and making her laugh.

"Thank you guys. Now go to school and learn things!" Sugar shouts over everyone. The kids head back with shouts of _Happy birthday!_ a few of them signing as well. It seems to be a habit that a lot of people here have.

I start wandering around the first floor and take photos of the boxes that still need sorting, the kitchen that's been cleaned. The scuffs on the well used floor and the notes on a large corkboard. _Need a tutor? Resume workshop on Saturday. Private voice lessons. College application workshop Friday at 6. Sign language workshop every other Wednesday. Movie night: Toy Story Marathon!_ Notes over notes over notes, every click of the shutter makes me love this place even more.

Once all the kids have left a gentle quiet settles over the building, but the warmth that they bring lingers. I hear Sam introduce Elliot to who I'm assuming is Rachel as everyone makes their way towards me. Sam looks at Elliot, "How do you want to start?"

"Since the kids are gone, would it be alright if I interviewed you? I want to write about how you started working here," he explains as he gestures to the four adults standing in front of us, "and why. And then I'll focus on the kids. What this place gives them. If it's possible, I'd love to speak to some of the parents."

Sam looks at Santana as she signs something, "She thinks that can be arranged. We have a staff meeting at eleven where you can meet the rest of us. And then you have until about two thirty before the kids start to show up."

It turns out that the rest of the staff is two people, Mike and Mercedes. Mike is their dance and sign language teacher while Mercedes helps with music and most of the other workshops. (Sam explains that she's going to be a teacher as soon as she finishes school, only he says it with a sort of awe that makes me smile.) During their staff meeting I learn that everyone is fluent in ASL and I want to know if it's a requirement or something that they've picked up since meeting Santana. They talk about workshops that Mercedes is getting ready to hold; applying for college, safe sex, internships and how to get them, starting study groups. Everything they talk about has to do with bettering the lives of the kids.

Santana watches as her left hand sits on the notepad in front of her, scribbling notes without looking away from whoever is talking. I can't stop watching her through the lens of my camera. The way her eyelashes brush her cheekbones as she blinks, her eyes watching her colleagues' hands and facial expressions. At some point I start to notice that she's watching their lips as well; she can read lips. She nods along to Mike's pitch about having a dance concert in a few weeks, smiling as his signing gets more animated the more excited he gets.

As soon as the meeting is over everyone heads to a small diner down the street. Santana and Sugar lead the way as Sugar loops their arms together and continues speaking as Santana watches her lips and laughs.

"Sugar's dad is the one trying to buy the building." Mercedes hangs back and tells Elliot.

"What?" I think both of us are equally shocked to hear that someone so close to this place would try to destroy it.

"Yeah, he was one of the original backers and now that the property value has gone up he wants to buy it and turn it into apartments. Sugar won't talk to him anymore, especially since he cut her off. She's been living on Santana's sofa for the last month."

"So they've known each other for a while?" Elliot asks as I watch the two of them at the front of the group, there's a comfort and familiarity there.

"Oh yeah, they grew up together. Sugar will tell you all about it."

"What about Santana?" I ask before I realize I've spoken. I can see Elliot eyeing me while Mercedes smiles.

As soon as we get to the diner Elliot pulls me aside, "You are in so much trouble."

"I don't know what you're talking about." But I can't quite meet his eyes and he knows that's my tell.

"You need to hold yourself together until we at least finish our jobs."

"I –"

"I get it, she's beautiful and you called her an angel. I can see the gears in your head turning about where to learn sign language and what books to buy on your way home. But we have a job to do. Save the place first, get into her pants later."

I stand next to Elliot with my mouth open as I try to process what he's just told me. I would laugh at the accuracy of it, but I'm too stunned to even move. He laughs quietly and pulls me to a chair around the table. I notice that they must come here often because as soon as we're all seated one of the waiters brings coffee and toast before anyone asks for anything.

I take a few photos as everyone chats and cards are passed down to where Sugar sits at the head of the table. Everyone smiles, Santana almost as bright as Sugar. After breakfast, where I learn that Sam and Mercedes have been together for two years and Sugar and Sam grew up with Santana, we head back to the center where they start cleaning things up before the kids start to show up.

Elliot sits down with Rachel first, since her schedule is the hardest to work around because of her classes. "I met Santana two years ago when I got cast in a production of _Children of a Lesser God_ at NYU. We had a student come in to teach us sign language and he brought Santana in so we could watch a conversation and learn to translate. She helped me through my rehearsal process and we became friends."

"How did you end up working here?" Elliot asks her as I take a few photos of her, she's sorting through sheet music as she talks to us.

"I took her out to lunch and heard a few kids singing and offered to do a workshop. That workshop turned into a few classes every other week, and then I just couldn't stay away."

The way she smiles as the shutter clicks leaves no uncertainty that she loves being here.

Mercedes tells us that she answered an ad to teach a sex ed class and never left.

"Those kids never stopped asking questions, so I never left. And then that damn boy had to ask me out." She smiles as she says it. "We just moved in together. He works here full time while I go to school."

"You two make enough here to get by in the city?"

"We make enough. Santana keeps the books in the black. How that girl does it, I'll never know."

By the time we leave I have filled several memory cards with photos and Elliot has a good starting place to write his article. His plan is to interview the rest of the staff in the morning and then start with some of the kids.

True to Elliot's prediction I hit one of the bookstores on my way home and pick up a few books on how to learn sign language. By two in the morning I can introduce myself and ask if she wants to get coffee. When I tell Elliot on the subway, he laughs.

"Why didn't you learn the signs for _I think you're an angel and I'd like to take you home and show just how much I like that?_"

I gape at him, "What, I, what?"

"Finish job first, get laid later. Come on, our stop is next."

I still don't know how to respond. Elliot has always been able to read me, ever since our first day of college together. It's part of what makes us such a great team. When we walk inside, Sugar greets us and hands me a small gift bag.

"Sam and Santana are meeting with the lawyer right now. They should be back in about an hour."

I see Elliot nod and ask about interviewing her as I open the bag. Inside is a new umbrella with a note card. _Sorry about yesterday. –Santana_ I take it out and smile at the blue color.

"It matches your hair." Sugar tells me as I trace the neat handwriting on the card.

"What?"

"She got the blue one because it reminded her of your hair, she likes your hair. I wasn't supposed to say that." She blushes a little as a large smile takes over her features. "Let me pull up some chairs and we can chat." We watch as she steps into the room behind her desk to find chairs for us.

"Job first – "

"Yeah yeah, I heard you the first time." Only I'm smiling as I tuck the umbrella into my bag.

Sugar brings out two chairs before she pours us some coffee, "Where do we start?"

"I heard that you've known Santana for a long time." Elliot prompts.

"Oh yeah, we've been friends since second grade. I moved here from California and the teacher sat me next to her. We've been friends since she kicked some boy's shin for calling my headband stupid." She smiles and my shutter is already clicking, capturing the look in her eyes as she remembers watching Santana stand up for her. "We've stuck together through the years, her and her mom lived with us for a while and we went to college together."

"Where did you go to college?"

"U Penn. She went for business and I went for Linguistics."

"Linguistics?" Elliot tries to not sound surprised, but I know him well enough to hear the slight confusion in him question.

"Yeah, I've been working with Mercedes to develop a way to help people learn to read lips after deafness caused by trauma or illness. We use the kids here as guinea pigs during our ASL classes."

"Do all of the kids know sign language?"

"Most of them do. They pick it up pretty fast."

"How does your dad fit into all of this?"

"Oh, so you heard about that part too?" We both nod and I can tell that it's a sore topic for her. She sighs before she continues, "My dad never really liked Santana, or he liked her but not her background. He didn't think she was a suitable friend for someone like me to have."

"What do you mean?"

"She was part of this program that bussed kids from lower income areas into the city to go to private school on scholarship. She's always been super smart, smarter than anyone else I know. Schoolwork came easily to her, words and numbers and facts. She knows the most random things, if she wasn't snapping at someone she had her face buried in a book."

"She lived with you for a while?"

"Yeah, and her mom. That's not really my story to tell, but it was at my mom's insistence that they move in with us while they…adjusted. My dad didn't really like it, but he dealt with it. After we left for college my mom finally left him." She shrugs at her last statement, like her parent's divorce was something she had been waiting for.

"Why did he invest in this place?"

"He saw a business opportunity and Santana was desperate for the money to get this place up and running. It turns out his board were pressuring him to do something to make him look good with their investors." She shrugs and sighs again, "A few months ago he found out that the property value on the place skyrocketed and he's been trying to buy it back so he can turn it into apartments. He wanted me to talk her into it, but when I started fighting against him he cut me off."

"That's harsh."

She shrugs, "Santana has a really comfortable sofa."

As soon as she says it, Sam and Santana walk through the door. Sam looks like someone kicked his dog while Santana looks like she wants to set something on fire. She doesn't acknowledge us as she walks up the stairs towards her office.

Sam watches her walk up before he turns to us, "We have to buy the building from our investors before he does."

"How long do you have?" Elliot asks.

"A month."

"To raise how much?"

"Seven hundred thousand dollars."

"Is she okay?" Sugar asks.

"She's angry. I'd give her a few minutes before going up there." He turns to us, "I sure as hell hope you guys can help save us." He walks into the next room, probably to calm himself before anyone else shows up.

"Sam went to the same school as us. His family moved next to Santana's when we were in fifth grade and they rode the bus together. When Santana decides to be your friend, she does it with everything she has. Kids picked on Sam because his mom sewed designer labels into his clothes and Santana introduced her fist to their faces. Sam's actually the one who got her to stop fighting and use her words instead. She can throw out some pretty good insults."

"You make it sound like she hasn't always been deaf." Elliot tells her, and I have to admit that I've been thinking the same thing.

"She hasn't, but again, that's her story to tell you. Not mine."

Elliot nods, making a few notes, "How did you get involved with her project here?"

"I don't really know. One day we were talking about college and then we were making plans to open this place. All through college we would talk about it, she used her business degree to get investors to help buy the building. But we were still short, so she asked my dad even though I asked her not to. We get a lot of donations and grants to keep everything running. Just not enough to buy the building from my dad."

She shrugs again, only this time there's an air of defeat that comes with it. The phone rings and she goes to answer and we can tell it's an important call.

"Let's go find Sam." Elliot whispers and nods his head towards the dance studio that Sam disappeared into.

We find him sitting at one of the tables with a coffee cup between his hands. "I was wondering when you would come find me."

"Sugar's on the phone, do you mind?"

"Not at all. If anything, this morning has made me want to talk to you even more. Where do we start?"

"How did you meet Santana?"

He chuckles a little and I find myself taking his picture before I realize it. "She was sitting on her roof. I had just moved in next door and it must have been around nine in the evening and she was sitting on the roof singing to herself. I sat in my bedroom and listened to her until she climbed back inside, the next morning she sat next to me on the bus and told me she would sew my big lips shut if I turned out to be a creeper who waited for her to climb out of her window." He laughs again, " I told her she had a pretty voice and introduced myself. We've been friends ever since. When she told me about her plans for this place I told her I was in. I was working in a hardware store and taking classes at a community college when they both came back from U Penn, and this seemed like a hell of a lot more fun. The building was a disaster when she got it, I was able to fix a lot of it for a lot less money." He laughs again, but I can see the pride he has in what he's helped build. "Has anyone told you Santana's story?"

"Not really. Sugar told us it's not hers to tell."

"I disagree, but she's always felt a little guilty about what happened."

"Is this something I need to ask Santana?"

"No, she actually asked me to tell you. Its easier on her if you already know when you talk to her."

Elliot and I share a look. Neither one of us feel prepared for whatever it is Sam has to tell us. It's something that our editor tells us often; don't get so emotionally involved in our stories.

I watch as Sam takes a deep breath and studies us before he continues. He's been trusted to tell us something personal and in turn, we're being trusted with this story. With Santana's story.

"Her dad was an alcoholic who liked to yell. That was why Santana would go sit on the roof and sing or read. It had been going on for years, but he never hit anyone. She spent a lot of time at Sugar's uptown penthouse, and when Sugar's dad didn't want her around she was in my living room helping me babysit." He stops and turns around when he hears Sugar get up from her desk and walk up the stairs. "When we started high school we somehow ended up being the cool kids. It was like the summer before Sugar and Santana went from being these scrawny girls to _girls._ They were always the prettiest girls in the classroom, but something about being in high school made them something else. Everyone wanted to be their friend. No one knew that my parents sometimes didn't eat so we could, or that Santana's dad screamed enough to make her climb into my bedroom so she could fall asleep at night."

"What caused her to lose her hearing?"

"I'm getting to that." He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. I realize that I haven't taken any photos as he tells us Santana's story. "Around Thanksgiving she started showing up to school with bruises. When we asked her about it she started to cry and begged us not to tell anyone."

"Did you report it?"

"When you're fourteen and naïve, you do what your best friend asks. You help her cover them up and hold her while she cries. She started staying at Sugar's place as much as she could and avoided going home until the last possible moment. Her mom was doing everything she could to keep their family together. She's a nurse and was working almost non-stop while her dad managed a camera shop that his dad owned. During Christmas break she didn't have a lot of places to hide out and the roof was off limits because of snow. Sugar went to visit family out in California and had asked her dad if they could bring Santana with them."

"I'm guessing he said no."

"You would be right. On Christmas Eve her dad came home drunk and went straight to their liquor cabinet. Santana was in the kitchen waiting for her mom to get home so they could finish making dinner. When she saw her dad she asked him not to drink anything since it was Christmas and he got angry and started screaming at her. Our kitchens were across from one another and I could hear him and see him waving his bottle around."

"Did your parents hear?"

"They did, and they could see that Santana was alone so my dad called the police while my mom called her mom. She yelled something at him and I watched as he hit her with the bottle."

"Oh my god." I breathe out and realize that I'm gripping my camera. I need something to ground me while I listen.

"He hit her on the side of her head and she crumpled to the ground and he started kicking her. Her mom was just walking into the house when it happened and my parents were running out of ours to get him away from Santana."

He gives us a moment to absorb the information that he's given us before he continues. The camera in my hands feels much heavier than it did before and I notice that my knuckles are white from gripping it too tightly. Elliot's hands shake slightly as he writes a few notes.

"Her dad was arrested while they rushed her to the hospital and into surgery. She woke up two days later and couldn't hear anything, the doctors thought her hearing would come back in a month, six at the most."

"But it didn't." Elliot sighs and wipes under his eyes, I don't bother.

"No. Sugar was with her when she went home and watched her have a panic attack as soon as she stepped into the kitchen. So she asked her parents if they could move in with them while Santana adjusted and waited for her hearing to come back. We all learned how to sign, she said we could use it to talk shit after she got her hearing back." He laughs a little, "We still can't really talk about her because she's so good at reading lips, and she knows when we try because we won't let her see us."

"Did the doctors know why she never got it back?"

"Not really. Losing your hearing to head trauma is pretty rare. They all thought it would come back after a few months. Sugar and I spent a lot of nights holding her when she found out it was permanent."

"How does that lead to here?" Elliot asks after another quiet moment of letting Santana's story sink in.

"She wanted to make a place where kids could go and feel safe, somewhere to go after school where they could just be and do their homework or learn how to dance or draw. That they would always have someone to call and get them if they were in trouble or needed a safe place to sleep for the night."

"She doesn't want what happened to her to happen again." Elliot nods as he says it and I can see the thoughts flying through his head. He's going to make this story as personal as possible.

"Santana wants to know if you told them the part about you signing that the new teacher was hot, when she was fluent in ASL and hired to help Santana." Sugar asks from the doorway with a smirking Santana beside her.

"How was I supposed to know she could understand me?" Sam whines; it's obviously something they tease him about on a regular basis.

"Sam, how do you say 'thank you' in sign language?" I ask him quickly before Sugar and Santana walk over to us. He shows me the sign and I repeat it back to him as he smiles. I see Elliot roll his eyes and groan.

The sound of the front door opening pulls our attention to see one of the boys that we met yesterday, Adam, with a blackening eye and bloody nose. Elliot and I watch as they walk over to him, careful not to scare him or crowd him too quickly. I can see that he has tearstains on his cheeks and that he's trying to hold back the rest of his tears. My hands itch to take photos, but this seems too personal, but when Santana takes a moment to nod down at my camera I nod back and start watching though the viewfinder.

Sam disappears and comes back with a first aid kit while Santana kneels in front of the boy and gently cups his face to see what damage has been done. Sugar takes his bag and brings a chair and helps him to sit. My shutter clicks as Sam cleans his face and Santana leans back and signs something to Adam, "She's asking him what happened." Sugar whispers.

The room is quiet as he tells us about his mother getting angry and waking him up by screaming and hitting him. He only managed to get out before her boyfriend woke up to make things worse. He doesn't want them to call the police because she's his mom and he starts crying. He's only twelve and doesn't want to be sent away like his best friend last year. Santana sighs and pulls him close to her so he has someone to hold onto. Sam comes back in with a file that I can see has Adam's name on it and he hands it to Sugar who flips through it before walking to Adam and kneeling in front of him.

"Adam, I'm going to call your aunt, okay? And then we have to call child protective services. I know you don't want us to, but we have a responsibility to report your mom. Do you understand?" She talks to him slowly and with a soft voice to allow her words to sink in. When he nods, she stands and walks back to her desk to start her series of phone calls. Elliot follows and I can hear the first phone call is to his school explaining that he won't be in today and to please have his schoolwork sent with one of his classmates. My shutter clicks as she dials the second number and begins to speak to his aunt. Behind me, I hear Santana lead Adam up the stairs.

I wait a few minutes before slowly walking up to the fourth floor. I can hear what sounds like _Finding Nemo_ coming from the television speakers, but when I look into the room I can only see Santana facing the monitor. The closer I get I can see that Adam is curled up on the sofa with his head in Santana's lap, her left hand running through his hair as he is lulled to sleep. I step into her line of sight and she gives me a small smile and nods at the camera.

I shake my head and sit down at Adam's feet and pull out a notepad. _He's been through enough. I didn't think he'd want his picture taken again._

She nods as she reads my note and pulls a pen from the lapel of her blazer. _Thank you._

I take the opportunity to thank her for the umbrella, only this time I use the signs that I practiced before. She smiles and writes on the notepad, _You're welcome. Did you just learn how to say that?_

I chuckle a little before I take the pen from her, _I learned two more things._ She quirks an eyebrow before I start moving my hands. _My name is Dani, do you want to get coffee with me?_ I can feel the heat in my cheeks, and I'm sure she can see me blushing as I look back at her.

She smiles and I can see a little color rising to her cheeks. She takes the pen and notepad, careful not to wake Adam. _You want to get coffee with me? Why?_

I smile as I start writing, my handwriting getting a little sloppy as I try to rush out the things I want her to know. _Because you're beautiful and smart and you help kids without wanting anything in return. I want to know you. You look lonely and I want to try and change that._

I watch as her eyes flicker from the paper to my face and back. She looks like she wants to say something, but Sam comes up followed by a woman in a business suit. She looks worried and angry as she kneels in front of Adam and strokes his hair.

"He's okay?" She looks up at Santana.

"He's okay. His ribs will be sore for a while and you might want to take him to see a doctor." Sam answers, "He's a smart boy. We're glad he came to us."

"I am going to kill my sister." She shakes her head and gently strokes over Adam's hair. "He's always been such a good kid, and so smart."

Adam opens his eyes slowly and takes in his aunt's face, "Aunt Kelly?"

"Yeah sweetie. How are you feeling?" I watch as she pushes his hair away from his eyes and gives him a gentle smile.

"My face hurts." He looks like he's trying to be brave and not cry. It doesn't take long for Kelly to get his paperwork in order and a representative from CPS to contact her. Relief floods though my limbs as I realize that he's going to be taken care of, there's someone in his life that will watch him and help him get through this part of his life.

When I get home that night I flop onto my bed and exhale as the events from the day filter through my mind. Watching Santana deal with the police and child protective services was amazing. Sugar had stayed by her side to interpret everything for her. She was, _is_ so eloquent and so _so_ passionate about the people around her. She really is an angel.

I feel myself falling asleep but my phone vibrating in my jacket pocket startles me. _Thank you for your help today. And I would love to get coffee with you. Maybe tomorrow before the kids show up? _I smile as I read her words and start typing out a response, _Sounds great! What time?_

Santana's response is quick, _7:30? I know it's early._

_I'll see you at 7:30._

The coffee shop is around the corner from the center, it's small and the barista smiles when Santana walks in. He nods and starts making what must be her usual order. I watch as Santana nods to me, "What can I get you?"

"A mocha would be great. Thanks." I hand him a twenty and take our orders to the small table that Santana is sitting at. She's already pulling out a notepad and two pens.

Santana smiles when I set down and put her coffee in front of her, she signs _thank you_ and I nod, smiling that I know what she said.


End file.
